


Technical Failure

by virgo_writer



Category: Make It or Break It
Genre: 2012 Summer Olympics, F/M, Gen, gold medal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-05
Updated: 2014-01-05
Packaged: 2018-01-07 13:25:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1120340
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/virgo_writer/pseuds/virgo_writer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Payson doesn't win gold in London.  Not really.  Not the way that she wanted to.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Technical Failure

 

Rigo didn't get it.  Of course he didn't.  He wasn't a gymnast and even though he'd been training for the Olympics his whole life (well, like 8 years 'cos BMXing wasn't even a real sport, and yeah she was felling pretty bitter about things - Rigo included - right now, but that still didn't put gymnastics and BMXing in the same class), it wasn't something he could understand.  She had the gold medal now, so what else mattered?  
  
 _"Everything,_ " she told him.

He hadn't disguised his eye-roll and she hadn't softened her words when she'd told him to leave her alone so she could brood in peace.  He had shrugged, his patience worn thin, and told her to call him when she was done being a psycho.

She told him not to hold his breath.  That was a week ago and she hadn't heard from him since.

Because he just didn't get it.  It didn't matter that China had cheated - that their star athlete had turned out to be well underage - because at the end of the day she'd still been beaten.  By a thirteen year old girl, yes.  But by a thirteen year old who had outscored her by nearly half a point.

It kind of put a damper on the whole gold medal thing.

If it weren't for some stupid USOC rule (a rule that a large branch of the gymnastics community considered unnecessary and stupid) she would still be hanging on to the silver medal, not the gold, and it was only that Ying Fa Li turned out to be ineligible to compete that changed the colour of her hardware.  It was a technicality, that was all.  It didn't change the results themselves.

She didn't feel like a gold medalist. In her mind she was second best.  Just because she physically had the gold medal didn't change the outcome in her mind.  She was the silver floor medalist.  Not gold.

The gold medal was now a constant reminder of that - a big black mark just sitting atop her dresser while the rest of her luggage sat in the corner, all packed up ready for the journey home where she would be treated as the bigger winner.  She'd almost rather have the silver than her tainted, pity gold.  At least then she'd have the medal she deserved instead of the one she'd earned by a technicality.

"It'll be alright," Lauren told her, offering comfort as they sat side-by-side on her bed.  Lauren put her arms around her shoulders, hugging her tightly.  "It won't even matter a year from now."

Payson highly doubted it, but at least Lauren got why she was upset.  Lauren had taken bronze on beam, not the silver or gold that she was expecting.  There was disappointment in that.  And if Ivanka and Genji got stripped of their medals tomorrow (for whatever reason), she knew that Lauren would feel as lousy about suddenly being awarded a gold medal as Payson did now.

Lauren eyed her worriedly as she just stared silently at her dresser, a part of her wishing it would all just disappear in a puff of smoke so she didn't have to think about it.  "I'll get, Sasha," she said suddenly, with a determinative nod of her head, hopping off the bed and darting out of the room.  Lauren, for all the problems that they'd had in previous years, knew well enough that there was only one person who could get her through something like this.

Sasha arrive moments later and took the seat beside her that had been recently vacated by Lauren.  A moment later she had buried her head in his chest and finally gave in, sobbing quietly until the front of his shirt was a damp mess and creased under her fist.

"I'm sorry," he said, his voice low.  Somehow he knew exactly what to say, offering neither platitudes of how things would get better in time or reasons for why it shouldn't matter.  Instead he simply gave apology.  Because it sucked that it had happened at all, but there was nothing that could be done to change things at this point. 

He gently rubbed her back, the action giving her a sense of calm and ease.  She'd almost forgotten how good it could feel in Sasha's arms.  How nothing could matter when she was with him.  It cleared away the jumble of thoughts in her mind, the questioning and hurt, to get to the root of her problem.

"I never should have changed my floor routine," she said, lifting her head slightly so she could see him better.  "I can't believe I was so stupid."

Sasha gave a shrug.  "You did what needed to be done at the time.  The NGO weren't taking you seriously.

"If you'd kept with your original routine, you might have been underscored in preliminaries and missed out on a place in the finals," he noted.

She read between the lines.  "You don't think so?"

He shrugged again.  "It was good routine.  You'd have made floor.  Maybe not All-Around and Bars, but definitely floor."

"And look what good that did me," she muttered sourly.  She'd placed sixth in the All-Around due to a mistake on beam and fourth in bars, not medalling in either event.  The medals had gone to Kaylie and Jordan respectively: silver in the all-around for Kaylie and bronze for Jordan on bars.

He smoothed her hair and held her a little bit tighter.

She let out another sob.

"Stupid gold medal," she said bitterly.  "I don't even want it anymore."

Sasha pulled back at her words, holding her far enough away that he could look her in the eye.  "I had an idea I thought you might go for.

"How about a trade?" he suggested.  "You keep my All-Around.  I get your floor."

She gaped, blinking widely as she tried to rebuke his suggestion.  She couldn't keep his medal.  Not when he'd put his own blood, sweat, and tears into earning it while hers really belonged to someone else.  Was a Floor medal really equivalent to an All-Around?

"That medal hasn't belonged to me for a long time," he added, cutting in before she could begin to mount her protests.  "Its been yours from the moment I first gave it to you.  It would be wrong for me to try and take it back."

"Sasha, I -"

"Please," he added, his expression pleading.  "I've been where you are, Payson.  In the lead up to Sydney the only thing I cared about was beating Marty and showing MJ that I was a better man than he was.

"Except that I wasn't," he continued.  "I was a better gymnast, but Marty was the better man and for years that medal was a reminder of my spite and how even though I'd won it, I'd done it for all the wrong reasons."

One of his hands left her back, coming up to gently rest against her cheek.  "You made it stand for something good," he told her, voice barely a whisper.  "Something brave and honest.  And beautiful."  He kissed her forehead, smiling affectionately as he pulled away.  "For that I can never repay you."

He held her gaze for a moment longer, eyes conveying something that she wished desperately to understand.  Then he stood to leave, not waiting for her response, taking a long step towards the door.  "Sasha, wait," she called frantically, jumping to her feet before he could get any further.  "The medal," she said, sounding breathless.  She lunged at her dresser, picking up the case containing her unwanted gold as a part of a single movement.

She moved quickly towards him, not wanting to waste any more time and handed him the small, wooden box.  "Hopefully this will come to mean something good, too," she told him.  
  
She paused for a moment, almost leaving it at that, but the decision was already made.  It had been made long ago, in an empty gym, just the two of them, the moment not so different from this.  Once more it was time to be brave.

She smiled shyly, ducking her head slightly as she spoke her next words.  "Maybe we could figure it out together."

He nodded, understanding flashing in his eyes.  "You know the next Olympics is only four years away," he told her, slightly hesitant.  There was a question buried in his words, one that asked her if she was sure that she wanted this, that there wasn't something else she'd rather pursue instead.

She shook her head.  "I'm done with competing," she said, smiling back at him.  That part of her life, and everything that went with it, was the past.  Only one thing remained in her future.  "Someone once told me I'd make a pretty good coach," she added, giving him a cheeky grin.

"You'd make an amazing coach," he agreed.  "I'd be honored, Payson, to work beside you."

It was more than that, she knew.  More than just job and place at The Rock.  It was a place in his life, a place she desperately wanted to belong.  "So you'll have me?" she asked, risking a step closer.  He mirrored the action, and suddenly there was no distance there at all.

"Yes," he answered simply.

They didn't seal the promise with a kiss.  It was the wrong time for that.  She hadn't even properly broken up with her boyfriend and Sasha was still officially her coach until they got back to Boulder in 24 hours time.  But soon, after everything had settled down and their lives had begun, soon there would be no hesitation.

And anything else they'd work out together.

~ FIN ~

**Author's Note:**

> I saw this prompt somewhere on livejournal.  
> For some reason I imagined this existing in the same universe as The Dog Days Are Over, although I'm not really sure why. The 'moment in an empty gym' just seemed to reference that fic, although I'm sure it was supposed to reference the kiss.


End file.
